"Admiral," she said, "where do these come from?"
The chief seemed to recognise in her a personage equal to himself. He bowed and said—
"Madame, the soleil and chalice were the Abbey of Pontcalec's, and were politely removed for safe-keeping by seven marines of the Galley-on-land."
"And this fine waistcoat?" said Madame, smiling.
"Was one of which the owner had no longer need," he said, looking at her.
"Indeed," she returned nonchalantly.
"It was a troublesome marquis who ventured home one night by a short cut. He was one of the fellows who does not believe in the necessity of a poor man living. He saw a fire of ours in the waste, and what does he do but ride up and over us. Luckily there is no blood on the waistcoat."
Madame's smile expanded. She looked the article over, picked the seed-pearls and lace with her little skinny hands, turned out the pockets, and inspected the flower-pattern of the silk.
Gougeon held the glittering soleil fast in his hands. He could not keep his scowling eyes off it. Hache took up the bottle from the floor, and poured some wine into the chalice, whence he drank it off. Madame lifted the dress-coat, and inspected it with the same feminine closeness as the vest.
"It is a good package," remarked she.